The Stakeout
by savagealias
Summary: Sherlock needs Molly's keen observational skills for a case he's working on. Short little one shot. Set after TRF.


Molly was bored.

She was currently in the morgue sitting on a stool, swivelling around whilst whistling a catchy tune she had heard on the radio earlier that day. She had finished all of her paperwork and there were no bodies to process. On the bright side however, she only had five more minutes to go before the end of her shift. Time, however, was a cruel mistress. It was going so painfully slow for the petite pathologist. She sat there, head in her hands, glaring at the clock ticking down the seconds until she was able to be released from the mundane day she had. She was going to go home, have a long hot soak in her bath whilst reading a trashy mag and having a lovely glass of red until her skin was considerably pruney. She was then going to sit down and watch The Walking Dead until the wee hours of the morning – which is a good thing considering tomorrow was Molly's day off.

When the clock had reached the thirty seconds to go, a smile started to creep up onto her lips.

That was until a certain consulting detective came waltzing in. He was wearing his beloved Belstaff coat and well-tailored Spencer Hart suit. And, of course, the lovely purple shirt that Molly just adored on him.

Oh no. No. NO! He was _**not**_ruining her night of pampering and relaxation – no matter how good he looked and no matter how many compliments he threw her way was going to make her stay. She had been working so hard over the past few weeks. She deserved a night off. She was not going to do any amount of overtime to cater to the whims of one Sherlock Holmes.

"No Sherlock! No! Whatever hair-brained experiment you want to conjure up is going to have to wait. I'm going home, and I'm hoping into the bath and I'm not getting out until I resemble a prune. Do you understand me? And I'm not giving you any more body parts."

Sherlock stopped in his tracks. He looked at Molly with a small smirk on his lips and a glimmer of humour in his eyes. Before the fall, an outburst like that coming from the small and non-confrontational Molly Hooper would have truly baffled the detective. However, after living with each other for over a year whilst Sherlock brought down Moriarty's crime network, the small and mousy Molly Hooper became not so much mousy, but more lioness. She had learnt to stand her ground and not give Sherlock an inch when it came to his whims. This did not change after Sherlock had succeeded in bringing down the network and had moved back in with John Watson at 221B Baker Street.

What Molly didn't know was that Sherlock had not come to the morgue for an experiment, nor a body part.

"I fully understand that you have been under a lot of stress lately and have been so looking forward to a well-earned rest that I fully intend to let you have. But, I do require your keen observational skills. However, they won't be needed here in the morgue."

This piqued Molly's interest. She got up from her stool and walked over to him arms crossed and one eyebrow raised.

"Oh yes. And what do you need my services for."

"A rather puzzling case I'm working on. A body was found in a children's playground earlier on this morning. He was tied to a local Chinese crime syndicate that has been operating out of a Laundromat in Chinatown. The murderer I suspect has another target. I believe I may have found where he lives and I believe that the hit is going to take place sometime this evening. If my assumptions are correct, and they usually are, this will all be over within three hours or so. So you'll still have time to 'resemble a prune' as you so delicately put it."

Molly didn't quite comprehend what Sherlock needed.

"But, why can't John help you with that?"

"He's on a date. With Mary."

"Ah. I see. But why do you need me?"

"Your eye for detail is second only to me. So I need you to help me pick out anything out of the ordinary and mundane. You know how much I loathe that type of thing."

And oh, did she know.

Molly sighed and threw her hands up in resignation. "Fine. But you're buying me dinner. AND this had better not take all night."

With that, Molly walked over to her desk, picked up her coat, turned the lights out in the morgue and walked out with the consulting detective.

An hour later found Sherlock and Molly sitting in a rented car outside of an apartment in Kensington Gardens. Sherlock was in the driver's seat, peering out of the windscreen at a building, eyes scanning every detail that came into his view. Molly was sated after having a delightful Chinese dinner courtesy of Sherlock. She looked out of the window, but nothing was happening. She was getting more than a bit fed up with being stuck in the car. There was no one around – and rightly so. It was pouring down with rain and it was quite chilly outside. They had seen only a handful of people walking the streets, but none had appeared to enter the apartment they were currently spying on.

Molly had wanted to put a local radio station on, just to try and cut the silence, but Sherlock refused. She was bored out of her mind. She knew Sherlock didn't do small talk, so she didn't bother trying. She was dreadfully bored and if something didn't happen soon, she was going to tell Sherlock to sod off and catch a cab home.

Then an idea struck.

"So, why is this hitman after whoever it is we're spying on?"

"Apparently he and his partner, the one that was found dead this morning, were syphoning off money from the syndicate. The boss found out about it and ordered that they be disposed of as soon as possible."

"Sooo… how do you know it's going to happen tonight?"

Sherlock sighed. "Don't ask stupid questions, Molly. I just do."

Molly looked over and gave Sherlock a once over. And then it hit her. Why didn't she figure it out sooner?

"There's no case, is there?"

Sherlock looked at Molly out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing.

"And there was no body found this morning was there?"

"No, there was a body, but I solved the case within half an hour. It was only a three."

Molly was incredulous. She glared at Sherlock, but softened her eyes and gave a small laugh when she figured out his plan.

"Sherlock… if you wanted to spend time with me, all you had to do is ask."

"I did! I asked you to come with me to spy on a stranger and you did. And I bought you dinner."

Molly gave a hearty laugh. "Ohh Sherlock. This is not the strangest date we've been on, but it's certainly up there."

Sherlock gave a small laugh.

They sat together in silence for a moment. Then, Molly reached over and whispered into Sherlock's ear in what she hoped was a seductive voice "You know, we could be in my bath right now getting all pruney together. Who knows. We could even have sex. Apparently that's a great way to relieve stress as well." She then suckled Sherlock's earlobe into her mouth and gave a soft purr.

Sherlock didn't need any more prompting. He started the car and drove off in the direction of Molly's apartment.


End file.
